


Orange if it's a Boy, Orange if its a Girl

by GreenasCole



Series: Mandarin [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst and Humor, Banshee Lydia Martin, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Domestic, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mpreg, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Pretty Much Everyone, non-graphic references to non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenasCole/pseuds/GreenasCole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One month after the events of The Thin Orange Line Derek finally tells Stiles about his...condition.</p><p>It's not totally unprecedented; it's just that no one has ever survived it before.</p><p>Deaton turns out to have terrible beside manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orange if it's a Boy, Orange if its a Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, more. I've taken wild creative liberties with his short, to the point where the tropes I've included get a little untropified. Whatever, it's super weird but I think it's fun.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> The is a seriously dark recounting of violent chapter in werewolf history that involves some seriously messed up non-con, kidnapping, mpreg, and murder. It's not described in detail but I'm including fair warning anyway.
> 
> Also, don't worry if the summary was too dire sounding, it's just a hook. I promise Derek will be fine. Eventually.

It only took a couple of days for Derek to be sure but he told himself it was better to wait until after the next Full Moon to be really sure. Fortunately, things were so chaotic rebuilding the manor, settling the new pack members in, and dealing with the influx of Unseelie Fae in the wake of Stiles’s insane bargain with the Leanansidhe that nobody noticed his strength steadily waning. The only hiccough came when Stiles brought up his flash of panic when they’d slept together the night they faced down the Darach and the Alphas, but it was all too easy to distract a teenage libido. The effort of shifting into his Alpha shape during the third night of the Full Moon nearly made him black out but it was worth it. Monthly runs with a complete pack were always a heady experience but running behind Stiles when the Loup-Garou took over was on another level entirely. Collectively the pack was enough to anchor the powerful beast and allow enough of Stiles to remain that he didn’t go on a rampage through the town, and the reciprocal effect of all that power pouring out of him into pack was a rush they’d never imagined. The feeling of gravity pulling them together was so strong that even the three new wolves stayed more or less in line.

When he woke up the next morning and found he couldn’t shift at all he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Why do we need to talk to Deaton?” Stiles asked for the umpteenth time as they walked into the clinic after hours.”

“Because there’s something we need to talk about and I’m afraid I’ll freak you out by not explaining it properly.”

“Right, because saying _that_ has totally put me at ease.”

“Derek, Stiles,” Deaton greeted, “Please come on back.”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’s flourished after you and followed the vet.

“Now will someone tell me what this is all about?”

“What do you know about the Curse of the Loup-Garou?” Deaton began.

“That…if you look it up in the dictionary you’ll find a picture of me?”

He laughed at his mate in spite of himself. “This is serious, Stiles.”

“Very,” Deaton agreed.

“Fine, fine. Let’s see…giant demon wolf, three nights of the Full Moon, immune to mental magic, only injured and killed by silver inherited from previous generations…I think that pretty much covers it.”

Deaton nodded. “You only left out one thing, and it relates to the last point.”

“The inherited silver thing?” Stiles mulled it over for a minute. “Oh! That’s right. The line of the Loup-Garou will never fail, but I don’t see how that applies…to…me…” Stiles trailed off into stunned silence when he noticed the ultrasound machine.

“Stiles? Stiles?” Derek waved his hand in front his mate’s face. Nothing. “I think we broke him.”

“Give him a minute.”

It only took about thirty seconds. “What the fuck!? Are you worried I’m pregnant with magical demon wolf man babies!?”

“Calm down,” he admonished.

“ _Calm down_!? Is this why we’ve been getting weirdly tender in bed over the last month instead throwing each other up against the nearest convenient surface and shaking dust out of the rafters?”

Deaton’s pained expression was something to be treasured. “Stiles, it’s not you, it’s _Derek_.”

“Derek?” Stiles rushed to his side and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug he wasn’t really strong enough to endure comfortably at the moment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Relax, we can handle this.”

Stiles laughed hysterically. “Sure. We already have a whole pack what’s one more fuzzy little mouth to feed?”

Deaton cleared his throat. “Two most likely.”

“Two!?” Stiles wailed staring at Derek’s stomach like he was trying to figure out how two babies were going to fit in there. A concern he shared honestly. “Why didn’t I know this was possible?   I’ve read everything I could find on werewolf physiology. How is it this was never mentioned _anywhere_?”

“Because it’s not a physiological phenomenon, it’s the result of a Dark Ritual,” the vet explained patiently.

“That’s even worse! Magic is supposed to be my thing…wait, Dark Ritual. I don’t recall performing Evil Buttspawn mojo on Derek!”

“Can we please never, ever call it that again?” he begged.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Stiles looked absolutely _betrayed_ by his lack of histrionics.

“I had some time to adjust to the idea.” Truthfully the only reason the pack bonds hadn’t been lighting up with his terror at first was because it took more than a week for the shock to wear off.

“Oh, and you didn’t think I deserved the same time? Never mind, we’ll talk about that later. Let’s get back to the how the hell did this happen part. Even if it’s a ritual there should have been at least an oblique reference in my books.”

Derek couldn’t keep the grim expression off his face. “There are some things that even werewolves can’t bring themselves to keep a written record of.”

“Is this really such a bad thing?” Stiles asked quietly.

“Derek will most likely come through this without any permanent effects,” Deaton reassured him. “Historically however…are you sure you want to know this? If you want we can drop the subject here and now and you and Derek can move on to color schemes for the nursery.”

“Oh my _God_ , he made a _joke_. _Deaton_ made a _joke_. No, if it’s so horrible Yoda here is trying to lighten the mood I have to know. _I_ did this somehow…”

“Shh,” he said rubbing the back of Stiles’s neck. “I’m going to be fine and we’re going to have a…a _family_.” It was harder to say out loud than he’d expected. Part of him was over the moon at the idea, but the scared sixteen year old that lost almost everyone he’d ever loved wanted to run away and hide and that part of him was still hanging on to life. “Deaton?” he asked, pulling Stiles’s back to his front so he could wrap his arms around his mate to comfort him during what was going to be an unpleasant tale.

The vet nodded and began. Derek suspected the druid was lacing his pleasant tenor with subtle suggestion of peace. If so he was grateful as Stiles relaxed into him.

“Around a thousand years ago werewolves were much more common per capita in some parts of the world, especially the more unstable regions of Northern Europe. You see werewolves and other supernatural beings had a significant advantage over humans when it came to enduring the harsh winters and natural occurrences such as famines and plagues, and of course were unparalleled game hunters. At one point huge areas of the old forests were populated entirely by packs. Eventually, their numbers grew so great that they ran out of territory and resources. For a time they supplemented what little they had by raiding the neighboring human settlements. As a result the first generation of Hunter Clans as we know them today was born, among other less savory traditions. Facing a real martial threat for the first time in their history, the wolves channeled their natural aggression into becoming more aggressive and warlike. It ended in a draw. Unable to get the resources they’d come to rely on from humans they turned on each other, beginning the darkest and bloodiest period in the history of the species.”

Deaton paused there for a moment but Stiles spoke up before the man could ask. “It’s okay, go on.” Derek could still feel small tremors in his mate’s limbs but supernatural intrigue was Stiles Kryptonite. He was hooked.

"The packs were not the only ones affected by the chaos. As you’ve seen we emissaries are not always protected by our neutrality. Over time those that guided the Northern packs began to pursue a more aggressive philosophy of Balance. The most vulnerable time for a pack was immediately after a victory over a rival so a ritual was created to help preserve the strength of the defeated pack. Male Betas that refused to submit to a new Alpha would be kept alive. The specifics of the ritual itself have been either forgotten or purposefully lost. What we do know is that the key element was that the old Alpha or Alphas had to die at the hands of the new. On the next Full Moon the Dark Magic of the emissaries would transmute the inseminating Alpha’s seed so that it could survive and grow without a womb. The process always yielded twin males. As the offspring grew they drew on the host’s power, suborning the healing ability. When the offspring were fully mature the Alpha that fathered them would deliver them with his claws. The hosts, drained of power and weak from captivity, quickly died. The children themselves were very powerful, each born with nearly the strength of an Alpha individually. As you know from experience werewolves take blood vendettas very seriously. As a result of this practice the different clans became hopelessly entangled until the packs began to disintegrate, torn apart from within by an ever growing mountain of grudges. This was the origin of the symbol for revenge: the outward growing counter-clockwise spiral, signifying that vengeance never ends and though it will grow limitlessly against nature and reason if left unchecked, it always returns to its plane of origin.”

“That is one bedtime story we are not telling _our_ kids.” Derek groaned and buried his face in Stiles’s neck. “Also, nothing in that reassured me that _my demon spawn is not going devour my mate from the inside like one of those things from_ Aliens!”

“It’s different because your situation is unique. In the past this was done to captive Betas, Omegas essentially, not Alphas heading strong packs of their own. Furthermore, you, Derek, and Scott share a single well of power. After the delivery he’ll be able to bounce back immediately. In the meantime you will need to be cautious however, if he’s injured his body will look after the infants first, potentially to exclusion.”

“Why did you have to tell him that?” Derek moaned.

“Too late, Mom. I have a whole pack full of merry helpers that are to make sure you don’t do anything more dangerous than watching the Discovery Channel for the next…”

“Six months or so,” Deaton filled in.

“Six months or so. Capisce?”

“We’ll see.”

Deaton must have sensed Stiles’s relief and naturally had to ruin it. “There is one thing that concerns me.”

“Hey, Derek, do you hear that? It sounds like the other shoe. _Dropping_!”

“It’s not about Derek but the children themselves.”

“You mean they might not be…healthy?” Stiles asked squeezing Derek’s wrists so hard they were in danger of breaking. And Stiles had called _him_ the Mom. Talk about a fast turnaround.

“It’s more that I’m not sure precisely _what_ they’ll be. Mortal Magic, Alpha Power, and Sidhe sorcery have never combined like this before. As I said before they’ll be fed by the hybridized well of power you share, which is connected through you to the Leyline Confluence.”

“You have no idea at all?” Derek asked.

“Whatever they turn out to be I can tell you one thing: they will be _powerful_. Now, hop up on the table and let’s take a look.”

 

The ultrasound was the most surreal part of the experience for Derek, at least until he heard their heartbeats for the first time.

 

“So how will this compare with, you know, an actual pregnancy?” Stiles asked. “I’m guessing there’s no book called _What to Expect When You’re Expecting First of Their Kind Uber-Magic Babies_.”

“Not to my knowledge, but I’ll keep a look out,” Deaton drawled. “Actually there won’t be much similarity with a typical pregnancy, since Derek isn’t actually a woman.”

“Oh, you noticed?   That gel is cold. And by the way, I’m introducing a lifetime ban on the word _inseminate_.”

Deaton went on as though impervious to sarcasm. “You won’t have to worry about any of the symptoms related to hormonal changes. While you will probably experience some discomfort as the developing fetuses displace your internal organs, between your bond to your pack and the enchantments wound into the Manor it shouldn’t be anything you can’t handle. And of course your appetite will increase dramatically. Given your… _encyclopedic_ familiarity with pain and injury I doubt you’ll even notice. Hello there,” Deaton said getting the wand into right position. “Stiles, Derek, take a look at your children.”

He heard the humming beats of their tiny hearts and suddenly it became real for him, undeniably, wonderfully, terrifyingly _real_.

“Hey little guys,” Stiles cooed.

“Interesting,” Deaton murmured.

Stiles looked like he was about to slap the man. “Are you _trying_ to get bitch-slapped?” He knew his mate so well.

“I’m not picking up two heartbeats.”

“There’s just one?” It might have been Derek’s imagination but Stiles sounded disappointed.

“Eight, two for each Alpha sacrificed.”

“WHAT!?” they both yelled, Derek’s full body spasm knocking the wand out of position.

“Kidding,” Deaton said with a shit-eating grin.

“Ha. Ha ha ha. Ha. You made a funny, Doc,” Stiles said with a murderous expression on his face. “Get it? _Kid_ -ding?”

“You’re having triplets. I’d say that’s unprecedented but such seems to be the norm for you.”

“Triplets!” Stiles squeaked, vibrating with giddiness.

Derek sat up on the table and pulled Stiles between his legs. “Love you,” he said giving him a quick kiss.

“Love you too, Daddy.”

“Red Notebook, Stiles. _Red Notebook_.”

Stiles winced. “You’re right. We’ll have to work out the parental pet names later.”

“Not that it will matter once we tell the pack. I’m sure they’ll have lots of colorful…what’s the word… _epithets_.”

“Oh _God_ , the _pack_. Any chance we can keep this secret until after the birth?”

“Doubtful,” Deaton replied. “Although I would suggest constructing a glamour to hide Derek’s condition from the eyes of those outside the pack.”

“I started mapping out the formulae in my head during Doc Deaton’s Scary Tales.”

Derek sighed and gave Stiles another quick peck. “It’s time to face the music.”

 

 

It went about as well as he expected. No amount of stealth or illusion magic could keep secrets between members of a pack. When they got home all of their wolves were arrayed in the den waiting to grill them about their would be clandestine visit to Deaton’s

 

“I knocked up Derek,” Stiles blurted by way of opening.

Derek groaned, imagining life raising three cubs with Stiles’s ADHD and pathological lack of a brain-mouth filter.

“I’m going to be an Uncle!?” Scott crowed without missing a beat.

“Way to zero in on the important detail, McCall,” Jackson snickered.

The Sheriff looked caught somewhere between amusement and sheer horror. “Son, when you say “knocked up”…”

“Yeah,” Isaac continued with an overblown leer, “Is there something you’ve been meaning to tell us, Derek?”

“Derek is all man-wolf,” Stiles defended.

“We know,” Jackson grumbled. “You two forgot to close your bedroom door three times last week.”

“You’re just jealous because your balls are as blue as your eyes,” Erica said from her perch on Boyd’s lap, ever the poet.

Danny tried and failed to look offended on his best friend’s behalf. Ethan had no such compunction and buried his face in his mate’s shoulder to muffle his laughter.

Jackson scowled at all of them, eyes flicking wistfully at Lydia and testily at Aidan. The three of them had a whole couch to themselves, the boys literally at her arm’s length, because nobody in the pack was dumb enough to jump in the middle of that mess. When the banshee saw Aidan sneer back at her ex, Derek saw a light bulb click on over her head. From the wicked smirk she turned on both Betas, he could tell really didn’t want to know what thought had just occurred to her.

“Okay, someone please explain this to me because I don’t recall covering this in nursing school.”

“That’s not surprising, Melissa,” Argent said grimly. “Stiles, I think I’ve been exceptionally open minded and trusting with you, Scott, and Derek, but _this_?” Derek braced himself, wishing he had claws and fangs to remind the ex-Hunter turned werewolf of his place. “Dark Rituals like this are an Abomin…” The man didn’t even get the whole word out before he was buried under every throwable object within reach of the rest of the pack, including several pieces of furniture.

“Tough luck Red State,” Stiles quipped. “Besides, we didn’t do this on purpose. It was a totally unforeseeable and in no way our fault combination of the Full Moon, Loup-Garou super sperm, and spilling the blood of a bunch of Alphas over a pagan altar.”

“How is _any_ of that _not your fault_?” Cora snarled.

“It’s okay, Cora,” Derek said as reassuringly as he could. “This isn’t like the old stories; I’m going to be fine.”

“And I’m really about to have a grandkid? Through my seventeen year old son and his much older werewolf boyfriend?” the Sheriff asked evenly.

This time it was Stiles’s turn to scowl. “Derek is my mate, he’s not old, and you’re not getting a grandkid Pops, you’re getting _three_. We’re having triplets!”

“I miss whiskey,” the man mumbled.

Derek flinched when the eyes of the entire pack snapped to his stomach. He pulled Stiles in front of him to block their view. This was going to get old _fast_. “How about we skip the Q &A about the mechanics and start making plans for how we’re going deal with this.”

“That’s a good idea,” Chris said extricating himself from the pile of odds and ends. “Once news of this gets out every Hunter in the Western hemisphere will be lining up to take a shot at you.”

“Us, Dad,” Allison corrected. She took Scott’s hand and smiled at Stiles. “If they come, we’ll just have to make sure word gets around about what happens to anyone that threatens our pack.

Derek shared a nod with her. Their relationship had progressed from tensed to strained to civil. He hadn’t held out much hope of them ever moving beyond that short of a miracle. It looked like he might have gotten lucky twice over and received without daring to ask.

Lydia had been conspicuously silent so far which meant she was busy working out logistics and no doubt plotting some elaborate scheme that started with baby clothes and ran all the way through the Ivy League. Derek saw an opportunity to move things in a lighter direction and ran with it, taking out his wallet and tossing his credit card to her. “I was thinking we’d connect the master bed and bath to the room next room down the hall. You’ve got six months before the boys are born. Try not to go _completely_ overboard.”

“Excellent,” she said smiling triumphantly.

“You’re having mini Stileses and Dereks?” Erica squeed, jumping off Boyd and dragging Alison and a reluctant Cora over to Lydia to start talking color schemes in hushed tones, bodily ejecting Jackson and Aidan from the couch in the process.

“Smooth,” Stiles murmured in his ear.

Scott bounded up and tackle-hugged them, crushing Stiles in werewolf sandwich. “This is going to be awesome! It’s so totally bizarre but that kind of makes sense because it’s you two!”

“Thanks, I think,” Stiles wheezed.

“Stop hogging the parents-to-be,” Melissa said waving her son off. “Now Stiles, as a healthcare professional I’m required to kick your ass for obviously not reading those pamphlets I gave you when you turned thirteen.”

“Mom, not the pamphlets _again_ ,” Scott whined.

“But as the future grandma…congratulations!” she gave them each a hug and kiss on each cheek. “You two are going to have the cutest little boys,” she cooed teary-looking before joining the girls.

Chris had taken advantage of the chaos to slink off somewhere and self-loathe in solitude.

That just left the Sheriff.

“As your Father I can’t say this is something I wanted for you…”

“Dad.”

“Let me finish, Stiles,” the Sheriff said sternly. “As I was saying, you’re only a junior in high school. You should be doing normal things like playing lacrosse, not doing your homework, and futilely chasing after Lydia.”

“I think we can all agree _that_ particular ship has sailed.”

“Stiles.”

“Sorry.”

Derek chuckled but held his tongue.

“My point is: normal was never in the cards for you, I understand that. I also know after seeing the pack, the family you three have made and what you’re willing to do to protect them that you and Derek are going to be great Fathers.”

“I love you Dad.” Derek did not tear up watching them embrace. Not even a little, regardless of what the goofy grin Scott was aiming at him suggested.

“Dudes you’re going to name one of them after me, right?”

“Why not,” Derek said seeing the bromantic hearts floating around Scott and Stiles and surrendering to the inevitable.

“What about their last name?” the Sheriff asked.

Derek had figured on something hyphenated but his mate had a different idea. “Sorry, Dad, but the little guys are going to be Hales, the next generation of the Hale pack. Is that okay?” Stiles asked turning to face him biting his lip nervously.

He caught that lip with his own and let him know just how okay it was.

The Sheriff groaned but there was no mistaking the fondness they could feel along the pack bond. “Let’s give them some privacy before I smell something that will give me nightmares.”

“How about a game of lacrosse?”

“You’re on, but I’m picking first.”

“Bring it Old Man.”

 

“My Dad is so suffering from a major case of Peter Pan Syndrome,” Stiles observed as they watched the Sheriff gather up the boys and head outside.

Derek shrugged. “He was middle-aged and now he’s got the energy of three teenagers. He’ll get over it.”

“I kind of hope he doesn’t. I haven’t seen him smile like this in a long time. I was worried that after my Mom and Jen…”

“Hey, he’s fine. Let him be a kid again for a while. We can worry about his love life in a couple of decades if we have to. You want to go join them?”

“Actually I was thinking I’d rather stay here with you.”

Stiles was so earnest it made Derek’s heart skip a beat. “I’m going to be out of commission for a while but that doesn’t mean you have to spend the whole time next to me holding my hand.”

“Where else would I be? Come on, it’s late and you need your sleep.”

“Are you really starting up with that overprotective crap already?” he asked sourly.

“Actually I just wanted to spend some time with just the five of us.”

Derek was definitely onboard with that.

 

 

The stomach thing was a lot less annoying when it was the focus of Stiles’s oral fixation. Derek knew he was grinning like an idiot as he watched his mate pepper the ridges of muscle with kisses while crooning and humming tunelessly to the cubs, but together like this on their own bed he was about as far from self-consciousness as a person could be.

“Hey there little puppies, it’s your Daddy Stiles. Now I know you probably like being in your Dad, because I sure do…”

“ _Stiles_.”

“…but I can’t wait to meet you.”

“Don’t call them puppies.”

“Dad can be a real Sourwolf sometimes…”

“Why am I with you, again?”

“…but we love him anyway, don’t we? Yes we do. Yes we do. We’re going to take such good care of you, but right now I want you to cover your little puppy eyes and ears so I can take care of your Dad.”

“Stiles they’re the size of raisins they can’t see or hear… _oh_.”

Stiles smiled up at him lasciviously. “Yeah, _oh_.”

“Carry on then.” He grabbed a couple of pillow and put them under his shoulder so he could watch without getting a crick in his temporarily human neck. Meanwhile the nightstand popped open as a bottle of lubricant came whizzing out. Stiles caught it with one hand and snapped the fingers of the other, undoing and unzipping Derek’s jeans. “Showoff,” he muttered lifting his hips so Stiles could pull them off with his boxer briefs in one practiced motion.

As usual, Stiles didn’t waste any time taking him into his mouth and using every trick they’d learned in the last few months to reduce him to a quivering mess (it was how his mate woke him up most mornings when time was often scarce). He shivered with anticipation when he heard the click of the bottle, relaxing to admit Stiles’s long, skillful digit, quickly joined by a second while the thumb firmly stroked the sensitive area between his hole and his balls. Stiles started up a hooking roll of the hand that massaged his prostate from both inside and out and sucked harder on his dick. In minutes he coming down the younger man’s throat.

Stiles hummed happily, making him twitch with painfully sharp spikes of pleasure by crooking his fingers while meticulously licking every bit of come off his spent cock. “I never get tired of doing that.”

“That’s…good.”

“How long do you think before you’re ready for round two?”

Derek frowned pensively while he considered it. “I’m not sure. I know I haven’t been able to be as _forceful_ as I used to…”

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to find something to occupy myself.” His mate amused himself by getting his lips, tongue, and teeth on every inch of Derek between his elbows and knees. By the time the younger man finally settled atop him he was about ready to just flip him over and have at it. “Just FYI,” Stiles said after quickly prepping himself and settling down on Derek’s cock in one smooth motion, “I’m planning on riding you fast and hard like this a lot while I can, if that’s okay with you.”

“Well if you must,” he said resisting the urge to thrust up in search of friction.

“After the baby bump becomes an issue…I have some creative problem solving ideas.”

Derek didn’t doubt it.

Stiles leaned back and started fucking himself on Derek’s cock, his own springing up and down and alternately slapping both their stomachs scattering trails of precome over their skin. The sound it made was sexiest thing Derek had ever heard.

His mate came first, back bowed in ecstasy while, Derek took over the motion, thrusting up frantically, fucking Stiles through his orgasm, arriving himself seconds later, brought off by the tight heat clenching around him time to the pulses of come splashing across his chest, neck, and face.

Stiles collapsed on top of him, idly wiping his face clean with soft touches. Derek considered just going to sleep right then regardless of the mess, but he was curious and wanted to get started on the creative problem solving, just in the name of being prepared. “I know you were bummed about my no knotting policy this last month and I still can’t, but if you want to…”

“You start the shower running, I’ll grab the potion.”

 

It was true he’d never expected to be a mated Alpha expecting kids at such a young age, especially given the fact that Stiles was in _high school_. It was also true that although everything they’d been through made it seem a lot longer they’d only been together for a few months. Despite every scrap of common wisdom saying that their relationship should be fraught with trials and angst _on top_ of the challenges inherent in running a pack and fending off the usual supernatural insanity, Derek couldn’t find a reason to complain.

 

He was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to ask questions.
> 
> The nest installment will be a seven chapter group of shorts for the six remaining months of Derek's pseudopregnancy and one for the first month of parenthood. I should be posting one a week or so. After that I'm probably going to set Dresden canon on fire and have Cold Days collide epically with a way way alternate 3b. It should be insane.


End file.
